


Blame The Vodka (But Thank It, Too)

by The_Gay_Infiltrator



Series: 24 Days of Fanfic for Cowgirlchica [1]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: 3D chess is more Spock's thing but meh, Actual lines from the show everyone, Also headcanon that Sulu is a romantic drunk, And he can give Scotty a run for his money with drinking, Breathe Deeply Chekov, But I bet neither of them could beat Spock, Chekov is as cool as cucumber except when he's not, Chekov's nickname is Pasha, Completely Heterosexual Males, Cutesy Awkwardness, He's very sarcastic, I apologize for my sarcasm in the brackets, I have this headcanon that Bones and Uhura are shipping buddies, It's gotta be TOS Chekov or it's not as good, M/M, No I did not make that up, Pavel you are so FRICKIN ADORABLE, Plants, Roll Over Chekov, Sulu has a great sense of humour and a good memory, Take off your shirt Chekov, The Nebula Ships Them, They have to share a room because why the fuck not, They're evenly matched, Uhura Is Literally My Space Wife, What's important is chess, You'll see what I mean, aka callbacks to The Deadly Years, and TOS Chekov has this edge to him, because why the fuck not, but that's not important, but then, clothing sharing, i hate them all, it's a Russian nicknaming thing and no Pasha is not girly, reboot Chekov can't even legally drink, reboot Chekov is just too pure, that and the fact that Sulu's a bit of a lightweight when it comes to vodka, wodka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 06:14:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8653876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Gay_Infiltrator/pseuds/The_Gay_Infiltrator





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cowgirlchica](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowgirlchica/gifts).
  * Translation into 中文 available: [都赖伏特加（但也多亏了它）](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9118249) by [Lalaith_Airfree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalaith_Airfree/pseuds/Lalaith_Airfree)



Sulu gave Chekov a sidelong glance when the Russian was laying in a course. He was focused, shaggy brown hair falling in his eyes. It was a wonder he could see for how fast his fingers were flying over the controls. His adorable Russian accent, floppy brown bangs, chocolatey brown eyes, and seemingly ever-present, brilliant smile. Sulu had fallen head over heels with the other helmsman that frequently sat beside him. It was hopeless, obviously, as Pavel was clearly not of the homosexual inclination. As Chekov completed his actions, Sulu quickly retracted his gaze to stare at his panel. "Mr. Sulu, warp factor 5."  
"Aye aye, Captain."  
Chekov took a moment to sneak a glance at Sulu out of the corner of his eye, and then snapped back to attention before Sulu noticed his eyes on him.  
They continued in this way for months, each sneaking glances whenever the other wasn't looking, and falling for each other more and more as they did. Both were sure the other was heterosexual and not interested, while actually they were both hella gay and very interested indeed. Sulu always found an excuse to lean over to Chekov and say things under his breath to him, and Chekov always found a way to 'accidentally' make physical contact with Sulu, even if it was just the slightest brush of a pinky or something like that. Sulu wrote at least 20 unsent love letters to Chekov, who, in fact, had a list in his quarters of all the things he loved about Sulu. Sulu had a plant named after Chekov. Chekov had christened his favorite vodka Sulu. Neither of them had aby idea. They were both hopelessly in love, but too painfully shy to do anything about it.  
The date was Stardate 3204.9. It started like any other normal day. Get up (REALLY FUCKING EARLY) and head down to the bridge for their shift (which was usually from 0600 hours to 2100 hours). Sulu rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he reluctantly rolled out of bed and made his way instinctively to the keypad on the wall that controlled temperature, humidity, and light in the room. He turned the lights on full and was rendered blind for a few seconds as his eyes adjusted to the new brightness. Blinking the last of the sleep out of his eyes, he pulled the yellow Starfleet uniform shirt over his head and stepped into his pants. He performed his morning routine, which consisted of combing his hair, greeting his plants, and making sure he was awake. Once these things were done, he headed to the bridge. 

For Chekov, it also started like any other day. Get up, get dressed, ignore bedhead, have vodka, go to bridge. Subsequently, Chekov got to get up much later than Sulu. 

They both got to the bridge exactly on time, and relieved the other helmsmen of their posts. "Spock's not on the bridge yet." Hikaru pointed out subtly to Chekov.  
"I think ve all know vat heem and ze Keptin are doing." Chekov said, leaning over to Sulu so he wouldn't be overheard. (Not that it mattered - literally EVERYONE had shipped it and so were not surprised when Kirk and Spock made it official).  
Sulu grinned wickedly, nodded, and straightened up from the lean he'd been doing more and more often. 

It began to diverge from normal when they flew through a small nebula at 2045 hours, just 15 minutes away from their shift's end. (Really, Kirk, that is NEVER a good idea. Ever.) It was a bit of a bumpy ride (which was not the abnormal part), but everything seemed to be fine. Fine, until Sulu and Chekov's shift ended and they both returned to their respective quarters. 

The first thing Chekov noticed was the heat. His room was really, really, really hot. He walked over to the control keypad and lowered the temperature. Nothing happened. The second thing he noticed was the humidity. He attempted to lower the humidity setting. Again, nothing. His shirt was getting increasingly hot and uncomfortable by the second, so he took it off and continued to try and change the settings without it. Eventually, after trying hot-wiring, electrical engineering, and good old computer hacking, Chekov (still shirtless and VERY sweaty) decided he'd had enough and was going to call engineering. When he did, he was told he was not alone in the malfunction of his environment controls. The captain had called a mass meeting to solve the situation, which was in five minutes, so Chekov pulled on another shirt and hurried to the conference room. 

The long and short of the meeting was that the nebula had caused this malfunction, and since only some of the crew were affected, they would share rooms with those who were not until the problem could be fixed. Room assignments would be posted as soon as they were done. Chekov went back to his overly hot and excessively humid room, to wait. (He didn't know what else to do.) He was sweating and hot (and shirtless again) within three minutes. Over the intercom, Kirk's voice proclaimed that the room assignments were posted and that those would hold until further notice. Chekov (reluctantly) put his shirt on again, and went to see who he had to share a room with. He scrolled through the list of names until he got to his. Pavel Chekov, the screen read, rooming with Hikaru Sulu until further notice. Chekov's mind had split into two halves, one of which was soaring at getting to be so close to Sulu 'until further notice', while the other was terrified that Sulu would find out about his feelings and that that would make things awkward. Either way, he had to do it, so he went to Sulu's quarters and rung the doorbell. "Come in!" Sulu called, voice somewhat muffled by the door.  
Chekov did. Sulu was tending to a plant, and Chekov got quite the view of his butt as he bent over the exotic cactus. Sulu straightened up and turned around. "I assume you're the one who gets to share my quarters until your environment controls are fixed-" he said, sort of trailing off in shock at the end.  
He stared at Chekov in disbelief. Either the Powers That Be were generous, or some high-ranking officer shipped it. (It was Bones. Bones made the suggestion to Kirk, because he shipped it.) Whichever way it was, though, the reality was that he had to share a room with the man he was hopelessly in love with, and said man was both sweaty and quite uncomfortable looking in his shirt. (Of course, Hikaru didn't mind if Chekov took it off, but Chekov might.) Whilst Sulu was introspecting like this, Pavel had begun to lift the hem of his shirt. Suddenly, he stopped, aware that Sulu might not want him to. "Can I..." he gestured to his shirt, "...because my room vas hot?"  
Sulu could only nod, trying to keep from staring a hole into the sliver of Chekov's skin that had appeared when he lifted his hem. And then, Sulu couldn't help but stare as the rest of the shirt came off fluidly, revealing Pavel's firm (not necessarily buff, but toned), pale chest. "I-I can turn the heat down for a while, if you want, and you can borrow one of my shirts." Sulu forced himself to speak so Chekov wouldn't get suspicious.  
"Thank you, zat vould be good."  
Sulu turned around and willed his breathing to calm (and the flush on his face to disappear), as he went over to the environment controls and turned the heat down. Then, to give himself a bit more time to calm himself, he went and got Chekov one of his shirts from the closet (ironic). "Here," he said, tossing the yellow garment to the shirtless ensign. "put this on."  
Chekov caught it and pulled it over his head, and Sulu started to giggle. It was too big for him: the sleeves hung around his fingertips, the neck sagged (showing one very clearly defined collarbone), and the length was just a little bit like a dress. Chekov scowled at Hikaru. "Vat ees so funny?" He demanded, his accent growing thicker.  
Sulu had to force his giggles back to reassure the angry Russian. "I'm not laughing at you, Chekov, you're just really cute, that's all."  
As soon as Sulu had said that, he thought: shit, did I really just say that out loud? And blushed a bright pink. A flush spread from Chekov's ears slowly across his face and down until it reached the collarbone shown by the floppy shirt as he thought deeper into what Sulu meant. Sulu wondered absentmindedly just how far down that blush would spread, then had to quickly push that thought down before he got carried away. Meanwhile, Chekov was trying to prevent his blush from spreading any further, because fuck if he was going to let it slip he liked Sulu (who was obviously straight -he clearly meant cute in a platonic way). Just wearing Sulu's shirt was enough for now.  
They both stood there a little awkwardly (trying to keep their desires in check), until Sulu suggested they play 3D chess. Seeing no less awkward option, Chekov agreed. They both sat down on opposite sides of the table, with the elegant chessboard between them. Chekov started with the white pieces for the first game, so he made the first move. The game dragged on, and on, each more following the last in a fast-paced (for chess) rhythm, until Chekov fucked up (because he was concentrating on Sulu) and moved his queen one square more than he had meant. A satisfied smirk played around Sulu's lips as he took out the Russian's queen with his pawn. Pavel swore in Russian. Now he really had to concentrate to still be able to win, because of course he should be able to. (Chess was a Russian inwention, after all). His tongue absentmindedly darted out to moisten his lips as he focused on the board (okay, maybe Sulu as well), planning his next move. He had no chance now, no matter what he did, so he just did the smartest thing the could think of, which was castle. He lost in 3 moves after that, but demanded a rematch. This time Sulu started with the white, and Chekov resolved not to lose again. Sulu's eyes were constantly drawn off of the game by Pavel's unconscious chewing of his lips. Jokes were made, and Chekov smiled his brilliant smile. After 6 games (of which they each won 3), Chekov suggested they have a drink. Sulu was not averse to that, and so Chekov insisted that they have vodka. "I vill just go get eet. I vill not be more zan three minutes."  
It was only after he left at a fast walk that Sulu realized Chekov would be going back to his very hot room, and he was also wearing his shirt. And THAT was a thought best saved for after Chekov was able to go back to his cabin again, when Sulu could remember Chekov wearing his shirt, Chekov sweating madly, and Chekov's absolutely gorgeous bare chest without fear of discovery. Meanwhile, Pavel, upon entering his freakishly hot room, made a beeline for where he kept his favourite vodka. It escaped him partially that he had named it Sulu. As he made his way back through the corridor quickly, it dawned on him that he was still wearing Sulu's shirt, and it didn't exactly fit. Fortunately, it was late, so not many people were in the hall. Still, he quickened his pace and made it back to Sulu's room without anyone seeing him. Sulu had taken out two glasses for the vodka, and had set up the chess board again. Chekov (face flushed slightly red and hair disheveled) set the bottle down on the table between them and flopped into the open chair. Hikaru poured vodka into each of their glasses, and Chekov immediately took a long sip of his. Sulu did the same, and before long a pleasant buzz had set in as they progressed further into the latest chess game. Sulu was probably a bit more drunk than Chekov was (after all, Chekov drank a lot more vodka and alcohol in general) when he giggled and leaned forward, resting his chin in his hands. "I've got a great idea," he said in a bit of a slur, "why don't we play strip chess?"  
Chekov blushed a rosy pink. "You vant to do vat?" He asked.  
"Strip chess." Sulu continued like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "every time you lose a piece, you have to take off an item of clothing." (Strip chess is not the best way to keep your homoerotic desires in check, Sulu.)  
Chekov considered (for like 5 seconds, just to maintain some dignity, he was completely sold the moment Sulu said it), and then agreed. He and Sulu reset the board (it made more sense to start over) and started to play. Chekov made the first attack, and Sulu chose to remove one of his boots. Hikaru fought back however, and so Chekov also took off one of his boots. The other boot followed for both of them, as did the socks. Now it was getting interesting. Neither of them took any pieces for a while, as they were both playing skillfully. Chekov took another of Sulu's pawns, and Sulu took off his shirt, blushing a bit from the alcohol and also from taking his fucking shirt off in front of Chekov. And oh, the things racing through Chekov's mind as he swept his gaze quickly up and down Sulu's chest, noting things for later since he probably wouldn't have this opportunity again. The pieces danced across the board, neither side capable of taking any pieces for another interval. Chekov refilled his glass. So did Sulu. Eventually, Pavel managed to take another of Sulu's pieces, and Hikaru, pretty much beet red by this point, slid off his standard-issue uniform pants. He could feel Chekov observing him from across the table. Pavel didn't really care about the game anymore (how could he, when Sulu was practically naked across a table from him), and Sulu took advantage of his absentmindedness (which he blamed on the vodka, because he still believed Chekov was hella straight) to take his other knight. Chekov took off his (well, technically Sulu's) shirt, and tossed it on the floor. It occurred to Sulu that if someone was to walk in, it could be a scarring incident for all three of them, so he ordered the computer to engage the lock. Chekov picked up a piece and moved it, as cool as a cucumber (except he wasn't, literally the only thing he wanted to do right now was kiss/tackle Sulu over the table). Hikaru Sulu was fucking gorgeous and Chekov was painfully aware of his (potentially embarrassing, potentially awkwardness-creating) semi under the table. Sulu (perhaps a bit under the effects of the vodka) leaned in a little closer to Chekov, who was fighting a very large internal struggle whether to take another of Sulu's pieces or to not. He put off the decision when Sulu started talking about plants. He always paid extra attention to Sulu when he was talking about plants, not because he was particularly interested in plants himself, but because of the faraway gleam in his eye whenever he talked about something he was passionate about and the little smile on his lips and he needed to stop thinking about Sulu's lips RIGHT NOW or his minor problem under the table would become a Very Large problem. Sulu (unbeknownst to Chekov) was in a similar predicament, having to focus anywhere but literally any part of Chekov's chest, because were he to let his eyes drift, his cock would drift too (and that could be a Problem). Pavel was gazing at Sulu with a lovestruck look in his eyes when he finished talking about plants (Hikaru couldn't tell if it was a loving gaze or a gaze caused by the vodka). Either way, the half-lidded eyes and the small, impish smirk made Sulu wonder just what was going on inside Pavel's head. Hikaru couldn't tell if it was the alcohol making him bolder, or if it was just him finally acting on an impulse he'd had for a long time (probably both, honestly), but either way he leaned forward and kissed Chekov. After about 0.01 of a second, the sheer gravity of what he had done hit Sulu like a ton of bricks, and he quickly pulled his head away, blushing furiously. Pavel sat there, immobile, staring at Sulu, trying to process what had just happened. Sulu had kissed him! Sulu had kissed him? Hikaru Sulu had fucking kissed him! While Chekov was attempting to figure this out, Hikaru was running over every single possibility of every single outcome in his head, each one worse than the next. It never occurred to him that what would happen next was a possibility. Chekov (having wrapped his head around the fact that Sulu possibly returned his feelings) pushed himself up from his elbows and kissed Sulu again (this time for more than 0.01 of a second). Now it was Sulu's turn to be shocked at the turn of events, but he got over it much more quickly than Chekov (it probably helped that Chekov was still kissing him) and leaned over the table a bit more than he was already. Pavel leaned over as well. This proved to be just a little too much weight imbalance and Sulu fell backwards, pulling Chekov with him. As they fell, the table got caught up in the mess of limbs and everything came crashing down. The chessboard ended up halfway across the room, the pieces scattered everywhere. Because of the way the table had gotten tangled with Chekov's feet, the Russian had landed square on top of Sulu (not that he minded, of course). He could feel Sulu's erection underneath him as he reconnected their lips, and he was fairly sure Sulu could feel his. The feeling of skin on skin was better than Chekov dreamed it would be. The rise and fall of Hikaru's chest, the enthusiasm with which he kissed back, the quick thump of his heart in unison with Chekov's. Pavel broke off the kiss to nip his way down Sulu's jawline and neck, eliciting a cry of "Oh god, Pasha!" from the navigator.  
Sulu - as much as he was enjoying this - was getting increasingly uncomfortable (he was lying on like, 10 chess pieces). He rolled over, effectively pinning Pavel to the floor with his body weight. Chekov reached up so he could curl a hand in Sulu's hair, leaning into the kiss with more enthusiasm than before. Sulu pulled away (with a lot of reluctance), eyes wild, lips pink, and panting a bit, to suggest that they continue this on the (granted quite small) bed. Chekov agreed, and they both stumbled over, neither one wanting to let go of the other. Somehow, they made it, and then Sulu (who was determined to get Chekov writhing under his hands) distanced himself a little, trailing his hands down Chekov's sides. As his fingers brushed the waistband of Pavel's pants, Sulu hesitated. Chekov crinkled his eyebrows (what you could see of them under his haircut anyway) and propped himself up on his elbows. "Vhy are you stopping?" He asked.  
"I don't want to take advantage of you when you're drunk." Sulu said eventually.  
"I am not drunk!" Chekov retorted indignantly. "I vould be more vorried about taking adwantage of you."  
Sulu gazed at Chekov. "Are you?"  
Chekov thought about this, and decided that because Sulu was sober enough to be having this discussion, the answer was no. "Nyet, I don't zink I am taking adwantage."  
Sulu smirked, and continued to remove Chekov's pants (granted, somewhat awkwardly, but meh). Chekov went red at Sulu's soft exclamation over the fact he wasn't wearing any underwear, but he didn't really mind so much because it was Sulu doing the exclaiming. Sulu slid the pants off of his ankles and tossed them somewhere (neither cared anymore), and then stopped to take in all of Chekov. He surged forward to kiss Pavel, trying to taste every bit of him like he'd never get to taste it again. The Russian tugged on the waistband of his boxers, reminding him that although he'd like to stay and just kiss Chekov, he had other things in mind. He slid them off (with some difficulty) and finally managed to fling them across the room. He leaned in to plant another kiss on Chekov's lips before moving down his neck (and taking extra time to suck a hickey into that collarbone which had poked out of the shirt Chekov had borrowed from him earlier). All the skin on skin contact was practically euphoric in itself, and it was definitely everything Sulu had hoped for (quite frankly, a lot more). He brushed a thumb over one of Chekov's nipples, and was definitely not expecting he reaction he got. A shiver ran through Chekov's body, from his head to his toes, some of the vibrations making Sulu shiver slightly as well, as Pavel bucked his hips up. "Oh god, 'Karu!" He moaned, mind going blank.  
Sulu smirked, and started to roll Chekov's nipples between his finger and thumb. Pavel sounded like pure eroticism as he shuddered and moaned under Sulu's touch, hands grasping at air. "Hikaru - shit - hurry up and fuck me!" He managed to gasp, between shivers and moans.  
"Roll over." Sulu said, standing up to go root around in his drawer for the lube.  
Chekov did so (having flashbacks to that time when everyone except him got really old). When Sulu returned with the lube, he couldn't resist. "Now, breathe deeply, Chekov." He said, with amusement in his voice.  
Chekov twisted his head around as much as he could. "Next you'll be asking me for a blood sample.." he muttered as sarcastically as he could with a finger teasing around his asshole.  
Sulu smirked and leaned in, spreading Chekov's buttcheeks with his hands. He couldn't believe this was actually happening. He breathed out, and then slid his tongue into Chekov, who practically squealed in pleasure. He pressed back onto Sulu's tongue, making little desperate whines as he did. Hikaru flicked and rolled his tongue, trying to get as many of those whines as he could. It worked, and Chekov was a shaking, moaning mess within two minutes (as if he wasn't already). "H-Hikaru.." he moaned, voice cracking, "...hurry, please."  
Sulu, hearing the absurd amount of lust and desperation in Chekov's voice, obliged. He opened the cap of the lube with a clear 'pop!' and squirted some onto his hand, and started to spread it onto his dick. He couldn't contain the throaty groan as he stroked up and down his cock, smearing the cold substance around. Pavel watched with eyes that were practically black with lust, pupils dilating constantly as he heaved heavy breaths, waiting in anticipation for Sulu to hurry up and fuck him. And he did. As Hikaru slid into the Russian slowly, both made various incoherent sounds reminiscent of swears. Chekov's heat was an erotic contrast to the cold lube as Sulu pressed in farther, until eventually he was buried in Pavel. He hesitated, not wanting to move and hurt Chekov, until said man essentially started fucking himself on Sulu's cock. Sulu, taking the hint, started to move as well, hands fitting perfectly into the dip of Chekov's hips. Pavel shut his eyes and let his mouth hang open, lots of little moans escaping inadvertently as Sulu thrust in and out. One of Hikaru's hands slid downward and wrapped around Chekov's cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts, which were picking up pace. Chekov gasped and jerked forward into Sulu's hand, surprised by the sudden addition of friction to the other plethora of sensations gathering in his brain, leaving room for nothing else. For instance, the distinct scent Sulu always had, sort of a mix of plants and some other scent which was always impossible to name. Sulu's thrusts were getting a bit more erratic now, moans overlapping Chekov's every time he moved his hips. His other hand moved from its spot just above Chekov's prominent hip bones, to stroke over Chekov's nipple. This, again, made Chekov shiver, and he came right then, spilling over Sulu's hand as his eyes rolled back in his head and a wave of sheer pleasure swamped his brain. The loud cry of "Hikaru!" was enough to push Sulu over the edge, as Pavel shook beneath him.  
Sulu came with a loud moan, his brain not functioning enough to even form a word. Lights flashed before his eyes as he emptied his load into Chekov. 

Meanwhile, in Sickbay, McCoy sat, bored. He wondered if Jim had taken his suggestion to put Chekov in Sulu's room until the nebulaic malfunctions had been fixed. He probably had. What would that even look like, he wondered, would they be drunk by now, or would they be fucking, or would they still be emotionally repressed idiots who had no idea what the other thought about them? He hoped it wasn't the last option, because the two needed to get their act together almost as much as Jim did about two months ago. The doors slid open and Uhura came in. "Hello, doctor." She said, sitting down across from Bones.  
"What can I do for you, Miss Uhura?" Bones asked, winking.  
"I heard a rumour that Chekov and Sulu have to share a room."  
McCoy tugged the collar of his shirt, grinning. "I may or may not have had everything to do with that..."  
"Of course you did, Leonard."  
"Can you blame me? Although I have no guarantee that it actually worked.."  
"I guess we'll see." Uhura replied (although in walking past Sulu's quarters on the way to the sickbay, she'd heard some pretty questionable things). 

The crew had all been able to tell when Kirk and Spock got together. Before, there had been the stolen glances, when the other wasn't looking, the exchanges which were so clearly flirting to everyone but the idiots in question, and so many other things that it would take me at least 50,000 words to list them, so I won't. Now, the next morning, on the bridge, it became increasingly obvious that they had talked, or fucked, or SOMETHING, because they acted differently now. Things were different as soon as they came through the doors of the turbolift, since not only did they arrive at exactly the same time (which could be marked up to coincidence or the fact they were sharing quarters) but Chekov looked quite tired (which could be blamed on the fact that Hikaru's morning routine took him much longer, so Chekov was forced to wake up earlier). However, the real clincher was the way they stood, close together, comfortable with each other's presence (and possibly even comforted by it), and the way neither of them snuck glances anymore, but openly gazed at each other lovingly. 

As the USS Enterprise boldly, seeking out new life and new civilizations, Chekov couldn't help thinking that he'd never been more grateful for vodka in his life.


End file.
